


If You Were A Star

by nightlibrary



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: D/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlibrary/pseuds/nightlibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for <a href="http://eachtoeach.livejournal.com/133002.html?thread=1509002#t1509002">this</a> prompt over at the <a href="http://eachtoeach.livejournal.com/133002.html">Lilo comment ficathon</a>. Everyone go and fill/post prompts immediately! Please. I'm asking as nicely as I can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Were A Star

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Drake's "Shut It Down (feat. The-Dream)," which is one of the few Drake songs I can listen to and think, "Maybe it's okay that your streetstyle is so tragique." Hence the reason it's on my "Get On" playlist. You know exactly what kind of on, too. Don't smirk at me like that. Also, shout outs to Lib and Liri--you'll see why.

_\--_

_...you’d be the one I’m searching for._

 

\--

 

“You can’t be serious,” Liam groans.

Louis just laughs. “Babe, you know I am. What time is it there?”

Liam draws his phone away from his ear to squint at the over-bright screen in the darkness of the bedroom. “It’s 3:30.”

“Ooo, that is late, isn’t it? Or, I guess early, depending,” Louis says, and Liam rolls himself onto his back to sigh up at the ceiling.

“It’s, like, the crack of dawn in London. What the hell are you doing awake? And why didn’t you install that app like I told you to?” Liam had done everything he could to make sure Louis was entirely prepared for his trip to London. He was with his cousins, of course, and would be completely fine, but Liam worried anyway. Liam always worried.

“I did,” Louis says lightly, “I just didn’t check before I called. And I’m awake because Loki woke me up.”

Liam blinks, slowly. He could be hallucinating in his just-woken-up haze, but he’s almost positive that Louis said  _Loki_. “The god of mischief woke you up? Is that a joke?”

“No. Loki’s a dog, Liam.” There’s something like glee in Louis’ voice. Liam sits up in bed.

“A dog?”

Louis scoffs. “No, Liam, a fish woke me up to take it on a walk at 7 AM. Yes. A dog.”

“You don’t have a dog.” Liam rubs his face with one hand. This is the most confusing phone call he’s ever had.  _A dog?_

“Correction,” Louis says, rather primly, “I don’t have a dog.  _We_ have a dog.”

There’s a moment of silence as Liam tries to understand. They have a dog? They--they have a dog. Louis got them a dog.

“Louis,” Liam says, and it comes out as a not at  _all_ embarrassing whisper. “What?”

Louis speaks very slowly. “We. Have. A dog. I told you about my friend Danielle, remember?”

A grin starts to spread across Liam’s face, slowly turning his eyes to tiny crescent moons. “Holy shit,” he whispers delightedly. “Louis! You bastard--how--,”

“Don’t ask me how I’m getting it home, because I don’t know,” Louis says, “and that’s not the point of this conversation.”

“What kind of dog is it? Louis!” Liam is clutching the sheets now, nearly white-knuckled in his excitement. He can’t believe how calm Louis is--though really, beneath his seeming flippance, Liam can hear he’s completely pleased. There’s almost nothing Louis loves more than making Liam nearly cry from happiness.

“He’s a corgi, Liam. A puppy.”

“A corgi,” Liam murmurs happily, clutching his blanket to his chest. “God, Louis.”

“Synonmous,” Louis says seriously, and Liam giggles.

“You’re a dick.”

“A dick who bought you a dog.” Liam hears a rustling from Louis’ end, like he’s adjusting his own blankets.

“Are you back in bed? It’s--isn’t it 8:30, now? Why’re you still up if you took the dog out at 7:00?”

More rustling. “Because, Liam. I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Liam bites his lip. “Oh. More of that to come, huh?” Because they have a dog. A corgi puppy.  _Oh, my God._

Louis hums. “I suppose.”

“Are you tired? Do you need to go, so you can sleep?”

“Of course not, Liam,” Louis says, something sly creeping into his voice. “I called you on purpose.”

Liam furrows his brow. “To help you sleep?”

“Liam.” It’s the tone Louis uses whenever he feels Liam’s being particularly obtuse. Liam frowns.

“What? Do you--,”

Louis lets out a soft little sigh. “Liam, I can’t sleep because I’m horny.”

A second silence. Liam can feel a blush creeping up his neck.  _Jesus._ “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Louis replies. “I think you owe me, hm? I did get you a dog.”

“You got  _us_  a dog,” Liam counters, smiling even as his blush grows. He hears Louis let out another sigh--more of a gasp, this time. His smile fades.

“Are you--Louis.”

“Mm?” His voice is a little throatier, this time. Liam releases the sheets.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“No,” Louis says, but then he gasps. Liam swallows.  _Shit._ His euphoria turns warmer, fingertips tingling. He’s hyper aware, suddenly, of the sheets against his thighs.

“Stop,” he orders, but softly. He’s not sure what mood Louis’ in tonight. He shuffles back to lean against the headboard.

“No,” Louis growls. Liam freezes. A small shiver runs through him. “Not tonight.”

Liam nods, then remembers Louis can’t see him. “Okay,” he breathes.

“What are you wearing?” Louis asks, and normally Liam would laugh, but there’s nothing silly about Louis’ tone.

“Uh,” Liam says, mind a sudden blank, “I--,”

“If you say ‘khakis,’ Liam--,”

“Pajamas,” Liam rushes out, torn now between smiling and sighing, affection and a sudden desire for more of Louis’ little noises fighting for dominance. Louis hums again.

“Off, Liam. Take them off.”

Liam slips his shirt over his head, then pauses. “Everything?”

“Yes.”

Liam wiggles out of his boxers one-handed. It’s decidedly unsexy, but Louis can’t see him. He tosses everything onto the other side of the bed. “Now what?”

“Blankets off, Liam.”

Liam blinks. “Lou, it’s January. It’s cold.”

“Off.” It’s Louis’ most commanding tone. Liam curls his toes in anticipation and bites his lip, then slowly inches the covers down, trying to ease his body into the cooler air.

“Now, Liam,” Louis orders, and Liam swallows.

He shoves everything off in a rush, hissing in a breath as the cold hits all of his bare skin and raises goosebumps on his arms. He’s not hard, not yet, so there’s nothing to stifle--and somehow, knowing that Louis is waiting to warm him up against this has his fingers curling along with his toes.

“Okay,” Liam whispers.

“Good,” Louis murmurs. “Miss me, Liam? Miss my cock?”

 _Jesus Christ._ Leave it Louis to leap into everything head first.  _Head first, ha._ Liam tilts his head back and closes his eyes, trying to slow his thoughts. “Yes,” he says. “I do.”

“What do you miss most, Liam? I miss your hands,” he says, not leaving room for Liam to answer, and Liam wonders if he wants him to, anyway, “fucking huge, such nice fingers. Long. They’re so much better on me than mine are.”

“I--,” Liam starts, and is immediately cut off.

“Shut up,” Louis says, voice rough, and Liam feels an itch start in his palms. “Strong, too. Hot. You’re always hot, Liam. I bet you are now, even in th--the cold.” Liam flattens his hands onto the mattress, inhaling. He can hear something, now--Louis shifting against sheets. “Oh,” Louis breathes, and Liam shifts backwards, back against the pillows, wanting to speak, wanting to do anything.

“Louis.”

“I can’t--fuck, you’re better than me. Can reach better.” There’s a difference in the sound of Louis’ voice--he’s on speakerphone. Liam bites his lip, hard. “Always so good for me.”

“Louis--,”

Louis’ breathing gusts over the line, heavy but not too fast. “Yeah, Liam. Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

Liam reaches immediately for his cock, half hard already. At Louis’s voice he freezes. “Wait,” Louis says. “Thighs first.”

“Louis, I--,”

“Do what I ask, Liam,” Louis says, tone dangerous. Liam slides both hands over his thighs, palms warm and dry over his fading goosebumps, entirely unembarrassed by the state he’s in just from hearing Louis talk. Even in bed together, Liam loves Louis’ noises, his words. He’s so vocal, always, and it’s like encouragement: if Louis can be loud, so can Liam. And Liam loves being loud--at least half as much as he likes being bossed around.

“Okay, okay,” Liam is saying, fingernails teasing over the insides of his thighs, thumbs rubbing little circles into the skin. “Higher?”

“Mhm,” Louis murmurs. “Slow.”

Liam drags his hands up, little red grazes rising up beneath his nails, just enough to sting a little. He breathes out through his nose, listening to Louis do the same over the phone, and it’s so good to know he’s listening. So much better than the wank he had in the shower this morning.

Louis’ been gone for three days, after all, and Liam gets a little lonely at home by himself.

“Are you there? Does it feel like me, Liam? It doesn’t, that’s okay. I don’t want to touch. I’d like to watch, though,” he breathes, and Liam lifts his hips to slide his hands around to his ass, kneading softly.

“Yeah?” he asks, and Louis breathes a soft “ _oh_ ,” just as Liam’s fingers graze over his hole.

“You always look so good, babe. Even just taking off your clothes, yeah? Fucking gorgeous. Stop,” he says, suddenly, and Liam freezes. “Are you touching your cock?”

“No,” Liam answers, voice a little strained.

“Hole, then, hm? Such a lovely, tight little ass, Liam. Roll over.”

He does. The brush of the sheets on his cock is a little rough; he hisses out a breath. “Louis.”

“Dry, I know,” Louis says, sympathetic. “But you’ll have to wait, won’t you? God, I wish I could see you. Love you like this, you know.”

Liam’s breath hitches. “Y-yeah?”

“Mm, yes. Up on your elbows, ass in the air. Your shoulders, Liam. You’re just-- _ah_ \--,” Liam can hear a slickness, a shifting. Louis’ hands are moving. His breath is coming a little faster.

“Tell me,” Liam whispers, and Louis gasps.

“I’m the one,” he gets out, “giving orders, Liam. Face down.”

“Louis,” Liam whines, gently. It’s exposed, without Louis--cold, dry. He shudders as he shifts himself, rolling his body up into place. “Louis, please--,”

“Get it out, then. All of it,” Louis instructs, followed by a tiny moan that has Liam squeezing his eyes shut even as he grapples for the bedside table. He yanks open the drawer and digs around inside, then starts pulling everything out: lube, a condom, and the dildo Louis bought for the nights work pulled either of them away, or nights like this, or just--any time, any time at all. Louis didn’t really believe in saving special things only for special occasions.

“Slick up your fingers, Liam,” Louis says quietly, and Liam obeys, dragging everything in front of him, refusing to fall out of the position into which Louis has ordered him. He flips the cap on the lube open and pours a generous amount onto his fingers, rubbing it between them, trying to warm it up.

“Done.”

“Wish I could slick up your cock for you,” Louis says, sighing. “I miss the taste of your cock.” Liam can hear Louis rolling over. He’s desperate to ask him what he’s doing, but he wonders if that’s allowed--if Louis will shush him.

He can’t help it. “What’re you--what’re you doing?”

“Two fingers,” Louis answers, and suddenly he moans, long and loud. “Fuck, I wish you had your mouth on my nipples. Love your mouth. Should have made you suck on your fingers, babe.”

Liam shudders at the thought, at the picture of Louis arching up, two fingers in his own ass, thighs straining.  _God._ “I can,” he offers, “I can still do that.”

“No,” Louis says, roughly, and Liam knows he’s still fucking himself--can hear it. He must be going slowly, taking pauses--trying to draw it out. Liam traces his slick fingers over his stomach, desperate to touch himself, do anything. He wants to be there with Louis, hot and close.

“Touch your cock,” Louis says, and Liam slides his hand down, gripping his cock at the base and sliding up, gently, slicking himself up. “Such a nice cock. Nicer than your ass, maybe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis gasps, “fuck, yes. Not everyone-- _ah_ \--not everyone’s got such a pretty cock. Such a pretty boy, especially hard for me. Are you, Liam? Are you hard for me?”

And he is, of course, and getting harder; the steady friction of his hand and the heat of Louis’ voice, the way it’s edging closer and closer to sounding wrecked, has Liam hot and smooth-skinned in his palm. “Yes,” he tells Louis.

Louis huffs back, “I know you are. You always are. So good. Open yourself up, Liam. Gotta get you to where I am, yeah? Gotta get inside.”

Liam falls so that one cheek is pressed to the sheets and stretches backward, hand stretching desperately. “Lou,” he gasps, “Lou, I--I don’t think--,”

“On your back, then,” he mutters, “c’mon, Li. Flip over. Spread your legs for me.”

He does immediately, knees falling open and hand sliding down, one fingertip pressing insistently at the rim of his hole, rubbing gently, preparing himself.

“Go on,” Louis says, like he knows, like he can see. “Fuck yourself for me, Liam.”

He slides the finger in slowly, the burn making his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth fall open. “Oh,” he gasps, and slides it deeper, all the way in, and pants out a few breaths before he starts moving.

“Don’t stop,” Louis breathes. “You’re gorgeous, I can hear you. I like this, too. Like seeing your face. Your eyes, Liam, God--you should see yourself, getting fucked. You’re incredible.”

Liam’s finger is sliding easily now, and he starts to push a second in, just the fingertip. A sweat’s starting on his forehead. His voice will start to sound like Louis’, soon. “I--,” he gets out, and Louis keeps going.

“Like it’s what you were made for. But I want you--want you to fuck me, Li, when I get home. Yeah? Me just like this, now, just like you are. Want your fingers in me.”

Liam moans, unable to help himself, as his second finger slides in alongside his first. In his head, he sees Louis beneath him--any one of the countless times he has been. It never gets old, never gets less sexy, Louis under him, riding him, blue eyes open and hair sweat-stuck to his forehead. Louis might think Liam was built for sex, but if he was, he was modeled after Louis.

“Want three, four,” Louis is saying, “want you to fuck me until I cry, Liam, want you to fuck me until I forget how to talk. Want you to do that to yourself, yeah? Do what you want to do to me.” His voice has dropped low, so rough. Liam’s moan rises into a whine. He’s still getting used to two fingers, but he wants a third, wants a fourth, wants Louis. He wants Louis in him, now, fucking him up and open, right into speechlessness.

“Louis,” he gasps, and Louis is still talking, little gasps of  _yes, yes,_ and Liam knows he’s not touching himself, because he sounds so close, and he wouldn’t want to come first--or maybe, maybe--maybe he’ll make Liam listen and--

“Liam,” Louis is saying, now. “How many? How many fingers?”

“Th-three,” Liam stutters, and he’s got the tip of a third finger just past the rim, stretching the skin. He pulls his thighs up, giving himself space. Gasping.

“Fuck, Liam, three already,” Louis groans, “God, you’re perfect. I bet you can’t wait to get more in you, hm? Get my cock in you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Liam’s working in hard, hooking his fingers to hit his prostate, gasping and jerking his hips into nothing, not touching his dick because he doesn’t know that Louis wants him to, and he’s not sure he can handle so much at once, not now.

“Go on, Liam. Want my cock inside. Go on.”

Liam breathes deep through his nose, then rolls his head to look for the dildo and the condom beside him. He reaches with his free hand, not wanting to pull his fingers out, and snags his fingernails on the packet, rolling the dildo along under his wrist. He rips the condom open with his teeth and holds it there, then grabs the dildo.

“Hurry up, Liam,” Louis murmurs. Liam pulls his fingers out, the soft squelch something he knows Louis can hear. It makes him blush, normally, when he’s alone--but with Louis listening, it sounds sexier. Him, open and stretched, waiting to be fucked.

He rolls the condom down over the dildo, then rolls onto his stomach to grab the lube. He stays there as he opens it, talking to Louis as he gets ready.

“You want me--how do you want me,” he asks, and his voice sounds rushed and wanting.

“Same way, Li,” he says, “on your back. Want you to do a good job. Need to feel it, me. Has to be hard.”

He rolls back over and lines the head of the dildo up, thighs tensed and waiting, cock leaking. He’s so hard it hurts. “Louis, can I--,”

“Yeah, Liam. Yeah.”

Liam pushes it in, the head bigger than his fingers, burning, catching on the rim a little and making Liam cry out as he keeps going, taking it in all at once. It’s thick and and hard and doesn't give the way fingers do, doesn’t feel like Louis really does, but it’s what he has. It’s what Louis wants.

“Harder, Liam,” Louis grits out, and Liam knows he’s moving again, and it’s enough to have him groaning, drawing the dildo out and shoving it back in, harder and faster, arm aching from the angle. But he can’t stop, not now.

“Louis,” he begs, “Louis, can I--I need--,”

“No,” Louis whines, “I--Liam--,”

“Shit,” Liam gasps, because Louis is so close, he’s right on the edge. “Louis.”

“Fuck,” Louis shouts, and he’s coming, little moans following his curse, and Liam can feel heat growing in his belly. He needs to touch his cock, knows he can’t come like this. There are tears building in the corners of his eyes.

“Please,” he says, “please.” He can’t think of any other words to say, now. There’s nothing but Louis’ ragged breathing and the wet, obscene sounds of Liam getting fucked. His skin is prickling, burning. His arm brushes his cock and he cries out.

“Stop,” Louis shouts, “stop, stop.”

Liam lets out a sob. “No.” But he does. He slows and stills. His body aches.

“You can wait,” Louis sighs, voice rising and falling like his chest must be, his breathing heavy post-orgasm. “You can wait until I get home.”

“ _Louis,_ ” Liam cries, voice strained, sweat rolling into his hair with his tears, “Louis, please, I can’t, I can’t--,”

“You can,” Louis says, stern. “And you will. Goodnight, Liam. I love you.” His voice drops into a gentle murmur. “I love you so much.”

And then he hangs up, leaving Liam lying there, gasping for air.

It takes Liam ages to calm down, cursing and shaking, having to pull the dildo out, having to rest and wait and not accidentally brush himself again. Having to clean himself up and put everything away and get back into bed, body tired and shaking. Drained.

The last thought he has before falling asleep is of how hard he’s going to make Louis pay when that bastard finally comes home.


End file.
